Welcome to the season of the screwdriver.  In the immediate post-Santa period, dads everywhere transform into assembly drones, with snips at the end of one robotic arm and a screwdriver on the other. Squinting at indecipherable instructions printed in Thailand, dads are approached by a steady stream of supplicants bearing bulletproof blister packs. Almost every toy Santa delivered this year, must be first extricated from plastic packaging, then freed of twist ties, then pumped full of batteries, so that they may enjoy their twenty to thirty minutes of functional playtime.  Overall, Santa has some quality control issues.

Once the toys have been assembled, broken, repaired and then terminally broken, Dad is then free to move on to the Ikea Phase of the holiday. Squinting at indecipherable instructions printed in Stockholm, Dad is presented by his spouse with a series of assembly projects and mop-up operations.

On a personal note: the second phase for me has been an implementation of my Christmas gift theme — Wedding Registry 2.0.  After 13 years of marriage our silver drawer and cabinet of glassware has become a hodge-podge.  My objective was to remedy this with a kitchen overhaul.  My SiL helped with her gift of some kitchen storage.  I got a load of grief on the Live Show for the unromantic nature of my gifts, but I know something they don’t.  My wife.

She loved it.  So Nyah-Nyah-Nyah.  Em, I mean ho-ho-ho.

Enjoy the scr*wing, dads!